


way too intoxicated to breathe

by haemophilus



Category: It's Always Sunny in Philadelphia
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Choking, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Porn, Pre-Suburbs, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 07:46:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12907380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haemophilus/pseuds/haemophilus
Summary: He fists Mac’s shirt in his hand. His nails aren’t sharp enough to claw further until he yanks out Mac’s still-beating heart so he does the next-best thing and kisses him, painful and full of tongue. It’s wet and suffocating. He swallows each of Mac's gasps like he can suck out that glowing something if he steals enough of Mac’s air.Mac and Dennis have a chugging contest and then fuck in Dee's apartment at three in the morning.





	way too intoxicated to breathe

**Author's Note:**

> I totally swore up and down months ago that I wasn't going to write in the present tense anymore but it was just my birthday so I wanted to treat myself to a challenge. 
> 
> Sorry that there is so much preamble to this porn. I know like 75% of people who click on this are only here for the porn so it's about halfway down the page.
> 
> Title from 'Junkie Church' by AJJ.
> 
> I procrastinated on shit by writing this. Yay!

It’s three in the morning, and Dennis is grabbing a beer from the kitchen to help him sleep. He’s having one of _those nights,_ when the snoring and clutter and lack of privacy keeps him staring at the ceiling with his brain humming like a live wire. Too many nights like this are curving his gut but his sister, that bitch, hoards the vodka under her bed as her own sleep aid.

Anyway, he’s too proud to go for that nuclear option just yet. A beer is chill, normal. He could even it out with crunches in the morning.

Dennis leans against the counter, and sighs. The only beer they have left in the house right now is Coors – not exactly the high alcohol content he’d prefer, but it’s enough. He hums softly and closes his eyes as the bubbles tickle his throat.  

It’s quiet, quiet, just him and his beer until he hears footsteps pad in. They aren’t his sister’s. Dennis opens his eyes to see Mac, squinting in the darkness as he ruffles his hand through his messy hair. A dull ache settles on Dennis’s shoulders – thirty-nine and nothing, nothing is his.

“Hey dude,” says Mac through a yawn. He opens the fridge, and grabs his own beer. “What are you doing up so late?”

Dennis shrugs, and takes a sip of his beer. Mac leans onto the counter beside him. _Leave me alone_ rolls over Dennis’s tongue, but his mouth is full of beer and choking on it would just make Mac laugh. Dennis inspects the label as if he doesn’t know the exact placement of every letter and number on a bottle of Coors. Mac takes a sip of his beer; he’s close enough that Dennis can see his Adam’s apple bob in his periphery.

His hair is still damp from showering at night. Mac doesn’t get up early enough to get hot water in an apartment of three. He’s talking at Dennis – something about Arnold Schwarzenegger – but Dennis has tuned it out. Mac’s just talking to hear himself talk. Sixteen years in and it’s routine. He comes in and sucks the air out of a room and sometimes, sometimes when the air is heavy it’s a buoy to the surface but other times –

Beer goes down the wrong pipe and fuck, he can’t breathe.

Mac cracks a smile as he coughs and chokes. “Slow down, dude.”

Dennis glares at him, clearing his throat.

“I know how to drink beer,” he says. Then, for good measure, “I don’t need advice from someone who chokes on chugging contests.”

“One time! I fail one time and –”

Dennis shakes his head, cutting him off. “Forget it.”

He looks around the apartment. His heart is thudding in his ears, demanding escape. There’s nowhere to go. Whoever invented open-plan housing was a fucking sadist.

Mac takes a sip of his beer, still looking indignant. A small _pop_ rings out when his mouth leaves the bottle. He puts his beer down on the counter, and heads towards the fridge.

“We’re settling this with a contest,” he says as he rifles around inside it.

“What?” says Dennis, incredulous.

Mac extracts two beers from the refrigerator, and kicks the door shut.

“You started it,” he says.

“I did no such thing!” says Dennis. Mac cracks open both beers, and sets one beside him. He smiles.

“Sounds like someone scared to lose,” says Mac.

“I am not!” exclaims Dennis. “It’s just – it’s three in the goddamn morning –”

“Yeah, and we’re both awake and you’re being a dick. So, unless you take this challenge right now, I’m going to assume you’re sure you’ll lose. And in the morning, I’ll tell everyone how bad I beat you tonight,” says Mac. He raises his beer in a toast.

Dennis narrows his eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Dick.”

“On three,” says Mac. “One. . .two. . .three –”

His throat burns at the liquid onslaught. He stares right at Mac as he concentrates on not choking. Mac stares back, unblinking. The moment pulls taut like elastic.

Mac finishes first, and slams his empty bottle on the counter so hard that it’s a miracle it doesn’t shatter. Then, he does an infuriating little dance as he whisper-shouts, “Yeah! Yeah! I beat you, bro! Faced!”

His face is begging to be punched, but Dennis isn’t looking to have a sore fist. He drinks and drinks until his own beer is gone.

“Once,” says Dennis. “You won once. At 3AM.”

Mac’s smile widens. “Still counts.”

He leans back onto the counter with a happy sigh. Dennis looks at him, and a sense of a forgotten. . . _something_ hits his chest.

“How the hell are you so happy?” falls out of his mouth.

Mac furrows his brow. “Uh, because I just won?”

The simplicity of his answer forces a surprised _giggle_ out of Dennis. Of _course_ he thinks –

Well, Dennis isn’t going to correct him. Not when he didn’t mean to ask the question anyway.

Mac glows with simple joy as he drinks from the half-empty beer bottle he’d left resting on the counter. Something _works_ inside him, some sunshine-y thing that eludes Dennis when he’s not ten seconds from cumming.

He fists Mac’s shirt in his hand. His nails aren’t sharp enough to claw further until he yanks out Mac’s still-beating heart so he does the next-best thing and kisses him, painful and full of tongue. It’s wet and suffocating. He swallows each of Mac's gasps like he can suck out that glowing something if he steals enough of Mac’s air.

Mac kisses back enthusiastically as if it matters if he responds. Dennis pushes him against the counter, dropping his beer onto the floor.

“Oh shit,” says Mac halfheartedly into Dennis’s mouth. “We should probably –”

“Shut up,” says Dennis, biting Mac’s lip again. Mac touches Dennis’s face; he swats him away. His hands settle on Dennis’s waist. The tips of his fingers tuck into Dennis’s pajama bottoms. He moans as he kisses Dennis deeper.

It’s been a long time since they’ve fucked. Dennis grinds his waist against Mac’s, and Mac shudders.

“Fuck,” he gasps. Dennis moves his hand to cup Mac’s throat, and digs his nails into the skin there. Mac grinds harder against Dennis in response. Pain makes him feel badass, for some reason.

The skin of his face is selfishly hot against Dennis’s. He’s hogging all the real warmth for himself. Dennis is going to have to go deeper to take it.

“I need to be inside you,” he says into Mac’s ear.

Mac’s soft from arousal and alcohol and exhaustion so he doesn’t protest with his God bullshit. He pulls Dennis over to the couch, taking off his clothes one-handed the entire way. Mac flops onto his back, and rummages around in the cushions until he finds one of Dennis’s tucked-away lube packets for the girls who never want to come over anymore. Dennis pulls off his pajama bottoms, but he keeps his tee-shirt on. This isn’t intimate. It’s not mutual. He’s taking.

Dennis rips open the packet of lube with his teeth, and squirts some onto his fingers. He doesn’t ask if Mac is ready, just pushes in without warning. Mac keens, and clenches onto a blanket.

He scissors Mac’s asshole slowly, deliberately. Mac moans, hums, scrunches his face with pain and pleasure. Dennis takes his time dragging his fingers in and out, adding more, taking them away. Mac bites his fist when he puts in four, scrunching his eyes shut. Dennis pulls his fingers away, and slicks his cock in his fist. He has to hurry, because if Mac nuts, he’ll bitch if Dennis tries to fuck him after.

Mac’s tight when Dennis pushes in, in. He wraps his legs around Dennis, urging him closer, and they both exhale when Dennis hits home.

“Oh my God,” says Mac in a delirious voice. His hair is sticking out at odd angles, and his neck is flushed. “It’s been –”

Dennis sticks two fingers in his mouth. The message is clear – _Shut up._ He’s not supposed to enjoy it, but the bastard does anyway, lathing Dennis’s fingers as Dennis begins to thrust inside him. Another finger goes into Mac’s mouth to try sending the message again, but he moans. Fuck – he’d probably take both of Dennis’s fists and a cock too if it would fit in there. Dennis pins one of Mac’s wrists to the couch with his other hand, and thrusts harder.

A squirt of pre-cum bursts out of Mac’s cock. _Fuck_. Dennis glares at him, and squeezes his wrist tighter.

“Don’t cum yet you son of a bitch.”

Mac closes his eyes tightly. His breathing around Dennis’s fingers is ragged. He’s wrecked and oh, _oh._

Dennis moves his hand from Mac’s wrist to enclose his throat. Mac chokes and fuck, if he _could_ , he would just –

The thought doesn’t complete itself before Dennis cums. It erupts in a familiar glow that wracks his body with clenching pleasure. He keeps his eyes open, looking right at Mac’s red face. Mac hurriedly jerks himself off, eyes still closed, and then he’s there too, choking through his orgasm as Dennis’s cock softens. He pulls his hands away. They’re sore.

Mac opens his eyes and looks up at him in elation. His hair is sticking to his forehead, and he’s covered in spit. It’s ridiculous. Dennis starts to laugh, and Mac follows. He throws his arm over his face, and winces as Dennis pulls out.

“Oh my god, dude,” moans Mac. “How the hell is your sister not awake?”

Dennis pulls on his pajama pants. The weight returns to his shoulders as the reality of his situation sets in again. Mac’s glow returns to him and only him.

Besides Frank, he’s the most selfish person Dennis has ever met.

 “She used to sleep through mom and dad fighting all the time,” says Dennis.

Mac yawns. The bastard doesn’t really care about Dennis’s answer. “We need to get our own apartment.”

Dennis salivates at the thought. His own room. . .his own bathroom –

If they had their own place, he could choose when Mac stole his air. They’d be fine. Dennis would be fine.

“Yeah,” says Dennis. “We really do.”


End file.
